


Centuries

by TheWaitingFangirl



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Past Lives, Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 23:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10501239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWaitingFangirl/pseuds/TheWaitingFangirl
Summary: You had been having the same dream for over a week now. There would always be the same man in front of you and he seemed… sad. Even when you couldn’t make much out of his face beside his eyes — his amber gaze, almost alike to liquid gold, bored into the very depths of your soul —, you could tell by the way he gazed at you somehow. The man uttered words under his breath, you couldn’t quite make them out, then he’d turn away from you with a sorrowful expression and, for whatever reason it was, you weren’t able to follow him. Your heart filled with dread once more when he disappeared in the dreams, that’s when you’d always wake up.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AvaWhiteRaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaWhiteRaven/gifts).



> I HAD PROBLEMS WITH THE TITLE SO I KINDA PICKED THE SONG CENTURIES BY FALL OUT BOY AND CALLED IT A DAY.
> 
> I'm dedicating this to AvaWhiteRaven because she understands my thirst for Altaïr.
> 
> Same goes for Winters, she's the one who didn't let me give up on writing and I owe my presence here today to her.

You sighed, rubbing your eyes in a vain attempt to push the sleepiness away. You hadn’t been able to catch much sleep — for whatever reason it was, you simply couldn’t last night, and when you did your mind was pestered by that same dream. _Again_.

You had been having the same dream for over a week now. There would always be the same man in front of you and he seemed… sad. Even when you couldn’t make much out of his face beside his eyes — his amber gaze, almost alike to liquid gold, bored into the very depths of your soul —, you could tell by the way he gazed at you somehow. The man uttered words under his breath, you couldn’t quite make them out, then he’d turn away from you with a sorrowful expression and, for whatever reason it was, you weren’t able to follow him. Your heart filled with dread once more when he disappeared in the dreams, that’s when you’d always wake up.

The weirdest thing was that you didn’t know anyone with such… _peculiar_ eyes. You could see no meaning behind this weird dream — nor were you certain if you really wanted to know. What if it meant death? You had seen enough sci-fi movies to know that trying to change the future was always a bad idea.

You shook your head, chuckling at your own silliness. As if that were to happen. You forced your attention to the professor’s lecture about social media — Mr. Allman always managed to, somehow, turn something tedious and uninteresting into something even _more_ tedious and uninteresting. It was a great ability if you wanted to kill your students with boredom, you mused. Sighing, you sunk into your seat as the lecture carried on; your long forgotten laptop still shut in front of you.

When the lecture was finally over, you  rushed to gather your things and slung your hefty bag over your shoulder to make your leave; idly thinking about the wonderful cup of coffee you were undoubtedly rewarding yourself with before returning to your dorm and working on an insanely difficult assignment you were given earlier today. You stepped inside the small café — Susan and Nan’s, they had the best coffee you’ve ever tasted in your whole life and it wasn’t watered down like Hot Beans’ —, still wandering in thought. You greeted Susan with a wave of your hand, ordering your usual and went to the back of the shop, like you usually did, since it was the only place where you could have some peace — bonus points, it was usually the emptiest of spots.

Only, this time, there was someone sitting in your favorite place — the corner, against the wall. You glared at the man sitting there — black short hair and tanned skin with a curious faded line over the left side of his lip. A navy blue T-shirt peeking behind the grey hoodie he wore, earbuds shoved into his ears as he wrote something down in his notebook. You frowned, staying in place as you eyed him. He seemed familiar… but not. You had the feeling that you should know him but you couldn’t have — you had never seen the man before.

You watched, dumbfounded, as he stopped writing and looked up at you; golden gaze meeting yours with curiousness and a hint of annoyance. And then, it hit you like a train.

_You held back your sobs, clutching to Altaïr’s robes and hiding your face in the crook of his neck in a vain attempt to stop the tears from spilling down your cheeks. He caressed your hair, pressing gentle lips to the top of your head as you trembled in despair._

_“Please, love me back…” You whispered heartfeltly, fingers curling into the thick white material of his robes. Altaïr sighed heavily, rough hands cupping your face as he coaxed you to look at him._

_“You know we can not do this…” He said again, softly, “I will bring you nothing but pain and danger.”_

His eyes widened when they met yours, brows furrowing as confusion washed over his face. All the sounds from the café — the laughter, Susan’s calls for orders, the chattering and clatter of cutlery — seemed to vanish as you stared back at the man; a man you felt like you **should** know. He opened his mouth, putting the pen down, as if to speak but nothing came out, so he closed it; still watching you, no doubt as puzzled as you must’ve been right now.

_“I don’t care, Altaïr!” You cried out, eyes casting downwards as you pressed your lips together to stop the sobs from rising again._

_“I do love you, Y/N.” He confessed quietly, “But… I’m an Assassin. My life is devoted to the Creed and I can not turn my back on my duty, my honor. I want you to understand… I can not be this selfish. I can not lead two lives, Y/N.”_

You squeezed the paper cup in your hand, fighting the nagging sensation that you **knew** that man sitting there, that you were **familiar** with the way his eyes studied your face, the way he moved and the way he spoke. He put his pen down, taking one earbud out of his ear as he kept his gaze trained on you.

“… Who are you?” The man asked slowly, his voice inquisitive and low; but not threatening.

You scrambled, tearing your eyes away from his as you noticed how awkward this little staring contest must’ve been. “I’m sorry— I’m just…! Ah— my name is Y/N.” You managed to stutter, cursing yourself in the process as you watched his face shift into amusement.

He took his cup of coffee to his lips, taking a careful sip, still watching you “Altaïr.”

**Altaïr**.

You mulled the name in your head. It sounded familiar, yet not. Was it Arabic? Most likely. You smiled sheepishly at him, nodding slightly in acknowledgment; giving up on trying to recall where you knew him from “Uh… I know this may look like some cheap pickup line, but… have we met… before?”

Altaïr’s eyes widened slightly at your question and, for a moment, he looked surprised. “… I believe not.” He muttered out, clearly puzzled, before shutting his notebook and putting his things together; and, for a moment, your heart sunk at the idea of the stranger leaving. “Sit with me.” He said with a small quirk of his lips before tsking and closing his eyes “Of course, if you don’t mind.”

You grinned at him, genuinely amused by seeing the man flustered — and you could tell this wasn’t something that happened so often with him — and accepted his offer, sighing as you rested your back against the cushioned chair.

_“Don’t do this to me…” you pleaded again, looking up into his eyes “Please…”_

_“The circumstances might not favor us today…” the assassin whispered to you, pressing a kiss to your trembling lips “But I promise you. We’ll find each other again, in our next life and when we meet, I’ll love you the way you deserve to be loved, Y/N.”_

Altaïr watched you for a while, eyes softening when they met yours as he chuckled. “I guess you could say your cheap pickup line got you somewhere, yes?”

You blushed, fidgeting with your coffee at his teasing. “Perhaps.”


End file.
